Safe Haven
by Song Of A Free Heart
Summary: Superhero/Spy AU When you marry a spy, you accept that it's going to take something from both of you. Rapunzel has accepted that. And she knows that she's more than Jack's wife - she's his safe haven. A series of angsty, fluffy, and humorous drabbles. (U5115)
1. Safe Haven

**So, we're all aware that I'm Jackunzel trash, right? This shouldn't be news to anyone. Not after my Cinderella AU drawings. Anyway… I saw** _ **Avengers: Age of Ultron**_ **… and I needed a Jackunzel AU. For that one certain part. You know what I mean.**

 **Actually, this ended up feeling more like Project GUARDIAN that Avengers… but oh well.**

 **Huge thanks to Eva Maverx for two hours of head cannoning last night.**

 _Safe Haven_

She was trying to read _Pride &Prejudice_. But she wasn't getting very far. She had been on page fifty-seven for a while now.

The sound of the shower mingled with the raindrops that hit the window of the bedroom. The deeper, heavier sound of the shower water hitting the plastic tub forming a harmony to the higher, more melodic sound of the rain.

Lifting her eyes from the pages of the worn paperback, Rapunzel looked over at the window. Night had fallen, overcast by the clouds that brought the rain. But she could see the branches of the birch tree in the yard. There was just enough wind to make the branches dance, and toss the leaves back and forth on their slender stems.

It wasn't much of a storm.

The one inside her head was another matter entirely.

Instead of focusing on the story of Elizabeth and Darcy, her thoughts kept returning to a different story entirely.

She asked Jack to tell her about his assignments because she wanted to know – and they had finally reached the point where he didn't try to hold back some of the darker details anymore. And she was to the point that she could usually take a deep breath, whisper a prayer of gratitude that her husband had returned safely, and push his stories aside.

It worked most of the time.

Tonight, though…

She looked over at the teddy bear he had given her when he got home – the silent sign that he had very nearly gotten himself killed this time. Again.

Rapunzel ran through the front of her hair as she looked at the bear. As soon as Jack left for his next assignment, she would have to make a knew shelf to fit all the stuffed animals and "souvenirs" in the guest room. This one would stay in their bedroom for a while. Probably until he brought her another one, which would take its place.

But that wasn't what was bothering her now.

When she had married jack, she had known what she was getting into. You didn't marry a spy without seriously considering what their job required of both them and you. Every time she looked at the collection of souvenirs, she was acutely aware of the fact that each on represented a time that Jack almost hadn't come back to her.

But other things… Did she have to accept other things too?"

"You okay?"

She looked up in surprise to see Jack in the door of their bathroom, dressed in a pair of pajama pants, with a towel around his neck. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed that the shower had gone suddenly quiet.

Looking over his arms and torso, Rapunzel caught a few bruises. But no new cuts. Her eyes lingered on a few of his scars. All of them were familiar to her – she probably could have listed them from memory.

Rapunzel closed _Pride & Prejudice_, setting it on the nightstand, next to the mango scented candle that burned inside its clear glass jar.

"Am I in trouble?" Jack asked, as she turned off the bedside lamp.

The candle was no the room's only light. Jack was mostly in shadows by the bathroom, but the warm glow was enough for her to see his expression.

"That… girl," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "The one you used to get the information."

He had started to turn back into the bathroom, but he paused, looking over at her. "Used" probably hadn't been the right word, she realized. He looked as though he was waiting for an accusation.

"Did you kiss her?" Rapunzel asked, trying to keep her voice level, but it broke a little at the word "kiss".

"No." Jack shook his head as he went back into the bathroom. A moment later he returned, carrying his dirty clothes, which he tossed into the laundry basket by the closet door.

"And the others," she said.

Infiltration was one of Jack's specialties – one of his values to the GUARDIANs. He was an amazing fighter, but they had plenty of fighters. What they didn't have were agents who could match the easy attitude and charisma that opened so many doors for him. Or his ability to get lost in the shadows, so that even people who walked right passed him barely noticed he was there.

But she also knew, without being told, that it wasn't chance he was often assigned to female targets.

He was her husband. Rapunzel was well aware that he was gorgeous. Face, body… and even when he wore colored contacts, to hide the vivid blue the experiments had turned his eyes, their intensity was enough to set off the butterflies in his stomach.

From the way he told his stories, he didn't seem to think anything of it.

And she didn't doubt him.

"Have you kissed any of them?" she asked.

"No," he said, raising his dark blue towel to dry his hair. The color of the towel helped hide traces of blood and flecks of temporary hair dye that he sometimes missed.

Not an indignant "how could you think that?" no.

Just a statement of fact.

And they were both aware that there was a silent "not yet" in the shadow of that no.

Rapunzel hugged her knees, her stomach tight.

For the first time, it occurred to her that maybe this was something that had been covered in his training. She had always assumed that his ability to charm anyone was natural skill – but now it occurred to her that maybe it was as much training as anything else.

He hesitated at the edge of the bed, silently asking permission. She was his wariness, and knew that he didn't know where this conversation. Maybe he was afraid that it would turn into a fight. They only had so much time together, and they both hated to waste it on a fight.

Rapunzel let go of her knees, shifting her position so she sat cross-legged on the bed. At the same time, she reached out to take his hand.

Jack sat down slowly, though she wasn't sure if that was the result of sore muscles or wariness. He didn't take his eye from their hands. She cradled his in both of hers. Tracing her fingertips over the scarred and calloused skin.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice little more than a whisper.

"I know…" she couldn't lift her eyes from his hands, which she continued to examine. The way the candle light cast shadows over the skin, revealing his scars. "I try not to ask too much of you – I'm proud of the good you and the GUARDIANs do."

Taking a deep breath she pressed the back of his hand over her heart, and lifted her eyes to meet his.

"But will you promise me one thing?"

She tried not to ask for promises. But right now, she needed one.

His eyes searched her face, waiting for her to clarify the exact promise she wanted from him.

"I need to know that there's a line you won't cross," she said.

"There is a line," he said.

"I know," she said. "But I need the line to be here. I can't share you like that. I don't care what the circumstances are I just… I can't."

"Do you trust me?" Jack asked cautiously. Still trying to figure out exactly what this conversation was.

She wasn't doing a very good job of explaining herself.

"Of course I do," she said. "I know that, if you did, it wouldn't mean anything to you. I trust you in that. But I…" she hesitated. "Do you remember out first kiss?"

His expression softened, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Rapunzel returned the half smile, letting herself get momentarily lost in the memory. The way he had pushed her hair off her face, calloused fingers caressing her cheek. His deep voice low and gentle as he told her that he loved her. Her heart had soared in her chest at the words. Words she had wanted so badly to hear – which she still loved to hear.

And then he had leaned in, his nose brushing against hers.

"Can I…?" He had asked, with more hesitation than she had ever heard from him.

By that time, she had already seen him fight. She knew the strength and power in his lean frame. And, later, she had learned what it was like to be kissed the way he fought.

But that kiss – their first kiss – was the exact opposite. Until that moment, she hadn't known he was capable of such tenderness. Despite the rough callouses on his hands, they cupped her face gently as his lips brushed over hers. Feather light, almost reverent, and more than a little scared.

It was what every girl wanted her first kiss to be.

That was the first time she had seen Jack Frost completely fall away – the attitude, the training, the strength, and the protective walls – and she had seen Jackson Overland.

"How could I forget?" he asked. With his freehand, he brushed her hair off her face – the same way he had then.

She turned her face into the hand that now rested against the side of her face, kissing his calloused palm.

"I know a lot of people try to say that a kiss is no big deal," she said. "But it's not for me. I mean, it is a big deal. When you kissed me that say, I felt as if I had found a part of myself I didn't know was missing. I still feel that way every time we kiss. And I can't bear the thought of anyone else…"

Her throat tightened, and she couldn't finish.

"Rapunzel." He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers.

"Promise me," she whispered, reaching up to wrap her hand around the back of his neck.

The kiss was coming. And the moment it did, she would lose the ability to think about anything but him. And she wanted it. Oh, how she wanted that kiss.

But she needed the promise more.

"Please, Jack. Promise me."

"I promise," he said, his voice raw as he pulled back enough to meet her eyes. His gaze was steady, and she found the earnest sincerity she needed to find there. "I promise, you're the only one I'll ever kiss. You're the only one I love. And you're the only one I want."

She closed the space between them, pressing her lips to his.

It wasn't as tender as their first. It was raw, and a little rough around the edges… But it was exactly the kind of kiss she needed at that moment.

Her hands found their way into his hair, threading her fingers through the white strands. She wriggled her body, trying to close the space between them.

Jack seemed to understand, pulling her into his lap without breaking the kiss. His hands ran up and down her back, soothing the muscles there.

Rapunzel sighed, leaning in deeper and shifting her position as her body relaxed.

Jack groaned, the sound resonating through both their ribcages. She registered the disappointment in the sound just before he broke the kiss.

"I would love to finish this conversation," he said, breathless. "But I only got a couple hours sleep on the jet, and I'm exhausted."

Rapunzel nodded, understanding. It was usually the case when he first got home.

She blew out the candle while he pushed back the blankets so they could crawl und them. And she surrendered happily when he pulled her into his arms. She had slept alone for weeks, and was glad to once more be wrapped up in the safety of his hold.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." She closed her eyes, settling in to let his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

She was just on the cusp when jack spoke.

"Rapunzel?"

"Hmm." It was all she could manage.

"You know how you said you felt complete the first time we kissed?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I felt the same way." He kissed the top of her head. "I still do."


	2. Promises

**When I was typing up the oneshot for yesterday, I totally forgot that I wanted to add this part. With all my writing, I usually write it out long hand, then edit while I type, but I don't have much time, so I'm just going to write it on the computer. Sorry if it's not very good.**

 _Promises_

"What happened?" Merida asked.

Jack cringed, both at the question, and at the pain in his shoulder. He had not planned on getting shot tonight. And now that the adrenaline high had worn off, the pain was coming in full force.

"My cover was blown," he said.

"Would you stop fidgeting?" Astrid snapped, her hold on his shoulder tightening until it felt more like a steel vice than a hand. Which did not help with the pain.

He did his best to hold still as Astrid went back to applying antiseptic to his wound. Medicine was not her specialty – but at the moment she was the most qualified to bandage the injury. Hiccup had vanished to wrap up some final details before they left, otherwise he was the one who normally handled things like this.

He, Astrid, and the pain in his shoulder, were sat on the edge of the tub in the hotel bathroom, while she cleaned him up – it would be easier to clean blood off the tub and tiles than the beds or the carpets. Merida and Eret were just outside the door, watching.

"How did that happen?" Merida asked.

He really wished Merida would stop asking questions. Because his answers would only raise more questions – ones that he didn't want to answer.

He glanced at Eret, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He hadn't said much, but he quirked an eyebrow as their eyes met.

"I hesitated," Jack admitted, looking down at the off-white tiles on the floor.

"You're the king of fast thinking," Merida said. "That's the whole reason you're on the team!"

She still didn't seem overly fond of the fact that he was on the team. The others had accepted him – Merida hadn't.

He shook his head.

The door of the hotel room opened, the Hiccup came in. He looked over the four of them, then his eyes landed on Jack.

As if the small space wasn't already crowded enough, he passed Merida and Eret and came into the bathroom.

"What happened?" he asked, wordlessly taking the bandage from Astrid that she had been about to wrap around Jack's shoulder.

Astrid handed it over without protest, and stepped back to stand by the door.

Jack sighed. With Merida, if he ran circles enough with his words, she might forget what her original question was, and drop the subject without realizing.

Hiccup was the direct one. And he was team leader, so Jack was actually required to answer his questions.

And he was too tired to play any games right now.

"I wouldn't kiss her," he said, looking back down at the tiles again.

There was an awkward silence between the five of them.

"Isn't that your job?" Merida finally asked.

Jack lifted his gaze to glare at her, but knew the expression was compromised by the fact he cringed as Hiccup tightened the bandage.

"No," he said. The pain added an edge to his voice. That was good. "My job was to get the information. Which I did. I just didn't get out fast enough."

"And you blew you cover?" Merida asked. "Over that?"

Jack rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous.

"Why didn't you just kiss her?" Merida asked.

 _Became I promised my wife I wouldn't,_ he thought. The words would probably shut Merida up.

But that was a secret he didn't feel like mentioning.

"I didn't want to," he said. And that was true. He hadn't wanted to kiss her. He hadn't wanted anything to do with the woman. She was the mistress of the leader of the drug cartel they were trying to track down. Flirting with her, and feeling her hands on his arm and shoulders, feeling her breath on his ear every time she leaned over to whisper something to him, had been hard enough.

He hadn't wanted anything to do with her – except that his assignment was to get the information from her.

His promise to Rapunzel just gave him a very valid reason not to.

But if he was going to keep that promise, he was going to have to get better at avoiding these situations. At finding a way to get _out_ of these situations so his cover wouldn't be blown.

"So?" Merida asked. "I don't want to walk around that casino servin' drinks while these guys 'accidentally' bump into me. This is our job, Frost."

"Nowhere in my contract does it say that I have to kiss anyone," Jack said. "I just didn't think fast enough. It won't happen again."

"Done," Hiccup said, setting back once he had clipped the bandage into place. "You'll need to see a medic when we get back to the base, but you should be okay for now."

"Thanks," Jack said, standing up.

They all shifted back into the main part of the hotel room, which thankfully provided enough space that they all had some breathing room. More than there had been in the bathroom, at least.

Jack went over to his small suitcase, pushing through the contents with his good hand until he found a black button up shirt. Normally he would go for a tshirt – the button ups were strictly for when he had to go somewhere formal. But right now he wasn't up for lifting his arms above his head to get into a tshirt. His shoulder put that off limits.

"You've probably never been kissed," Merida said suddenly.

Jack stopped with the shirt in his grasp, turning to look at Merida.

"What?"

"That's why you didn't want to kiss her." And he couldn't tell if she was being serious, or if she was making fun of him.

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Jack said, going back to pulling the shirt from the suitcase. He braced himself as he slid his injured arm into the cool, silky fabric of the sleeve.

"You're probably trying to save your first kiss for something special."

This was so ridiculous.

He was _married_ , for heaven's sake. To use middle school language, he was pretty sure he had more "experience" than anyone else in the room.

He looked down at his left hand – specifically at his ring finger. There was no ring. No sign that there ever had been one. Because there never _had_ been one. The silver chain he wore around his left wrist was the closest thing he had to a wedding band.

Rapunzel had chosen it (he hadn't even realized there were so many different kinds of chains before they had gone into the jewelry store to pick something out). They had originally been looking for a necklace, but the bracelet was less conspicuous. Easy to miss, and less distinctive than a pendant would be.

"Wedding rings aren't really tradition," she had said. "And even a couple hundred years ago, even if a woman wore a ring it wasn't usually on the ring finger."

It didn't change that he would rather be wearing a ring.

But keeping his marriage secret had been his idea, and Rapunzel had agreed.

It was better this way – safer.

At moments like this, though, he hated it.

"So what if I was?" Jack asked. "Just because the world's cheapened a kiss to a handshake doesn't mean it's right."

Merida's face actually turned red as she glared at him. "I'm not sayin' it's right," she snapped. "But this is your job! Ya can't—"

"Merida." It was Eret. He didn't even raise his voice – there wasn't even a warning in his tone.

But she still fell silent. She continued to glare at Jack for a moment, then shook her head.

"I have to go call North," Hiccup said into the silence. "Astrid, you and Merida should get ready to go. The jet will be here in an hour, and it's twenty minutes to the landing strip."

He left the room, Astrid and Merida following a few steps behind. But not without the red head shooting Jack a final glare over her shoulder.

The door closed behind them.

The room was silent for a moment, save for Jack throwing his things into his suitcase.

"She asked you not to, huh?" Eret asked.

Jack glanced up at his teammate.

Calling Eret his friend would be a bit of a stretch – in part because Eret wouldn't compromise his position with Merida if it came to a fight between her and Jack. But there was a special truce between them – not so much a friendship as an understanding.

Mostly because Eret was the only one on the team who knew.

Six months earlier, Jack had been injured while they were on an assignment in Paris. At some point while he had been unconscious he had said Rapunzel's name – several times. When Eret had asked, Jack had been loopy on painkillers, and the whole thing had come out.

Jack sighed as he sat down the on the edge of the bed, rubbing his forehead. "She made me promise."

"She wouldn't make an exception?" Eret asked. "You must have known what would happen if you didn't kiss her."

"Rapunzel… she takes a promise seriously. When we first met, she told me that she never, ever breaks a promise. She expects the same of me. I'm not going to betray that."

"It's never affected your work before."

"Recent development," Jack sighed. "She asked me about a month ago. This is the first time since then, and I panicked. I've never kissed any of them – I've always tried to avoid it."

"But you were thinking about your promise, and not how to get out of it."

Jack nodded.

When she had asked for his promise, he had given it without hesitation. Like he said, he had always avoided kissing any of his targets, so he hadn't thought it would be a problem.

But tonight, his brain had gone blank when his target challenged him.

They were silent for a couple minutes, while Eret finished packing his own bag.

"She must be pretty special."

Jack's lips twitched in a tired grin. "She is."

"You better figure something out, though," Eret advised. "I have a feeling Mer isn't gonna let this drop."

"Of course not," Jack sighed, heaving himself off the bed. "She never does."

And he would have to explain to North why the simple cut-and-dry mission had gone so smoothly, right up until the point Jack's cover had been blown, and they had all been forced to pull out.

They had succeeded – but the whole thing would have gone a lot smoother is Jack's assignment hadn't pulled a gun on him.

But he had kept his promise.

They had all gotten out alive. And he had kept his promise.


	3. I'll Be Back

**Yes, another. I am absolutely smitten with this AU.**

 _I'll Be Back_

They say goodbye the night before he leaves.

It's easier for both of them, since neither is good at goodbyes. It's too painful if they're both conscious. Because he doesn't want to leave, any more than she wants to be left.

So they've agreed that it's best if he's gone by the time she wakes up.

They go to bed early, once he's packed his backpack, and laid out his clothes for the next day. They sit on the chair in the corner of their bedroom, with his leather jacket, boots, and fingerless gloves. The sight of them is a remind that they choose to ignore for a while. Sometimes their goodbye is souls joining in the touch of skin on skin. Other times he just holds her, and they talk until they fall asleep. Usually it's both.

Dawn always comes too soon for Jack, in every since. He's not a morning person, by any stretch of the imagination. But she's his golden, morning girl, and the only way to be gone before she wakes up is to leave before the sunlight spills over the horizon.

Gabbing his clothes, he goes into the bathroom, taking a shower to wake him up. It works well enough.

He comes out of the bathroom in a fitted black shirt, black cargo pants, and his boots.

His jacket and gloves still sit on the chair. Neither offers much protection, but he's come to think of them as his armor. Not so much for his body, but for his heart. They represent the mental and emotional shields he put up. Rapunzel's the only place he feels safe to let them down. The moment he leaves her, every piece of his heart has to be locked away. Some days, he just doesn't want to put them on.

Downstairs, the coffeepot should be turning itself on as the timer told it to start brewing a cup of coffee. (He doesn't like coffee, but it's the only way he's going to stay awake.)

But he's not ready to leave the bedroom – their sanctuary – just yet.

He can tell from her breathing she's still fast asleep. And as he approaches the bed, the thought of forgetting the world and curling up with her is always tempting. His own sense of responsibility won't let him, though.

Instead, he leans over to stroke her hair, smiling as she turns her head into the touch.

Outside the window, the first ray of light is just coming over the horizon. He doesn't have much time.

He kisses her temple, lingering for one last smell of her sunshine and floral scent. Over the next few weeks, his longing for her smell, her touch, her voice, her smile… it will be an ache that nothing can ease. Work will keep his mind busy. But a second's pause is all it will take to remember.

Until they're reunited.

"I'll be back," he whispered, kissing her temple again before he climbs back off the bed.

On the way out, he goes over to the chair, where he shrugs into his jacket, puts on his gloves, and grabs his backpack. They fit the same way they always do, but they irritate him.

By the time he finishes breakfast, he'll have to let all of Jack Frost's shield's fall back into place. When he leaves the house, he'll leave Jackson Overland at the door. At that point, the jacket and gloves will feel like a second skin.

He casts one last look at Rapunzel's sleeping form before he leaves the bedroom, closing the door softly.


	4. Broken, Part 1

**A/N goes here**

 _Broken_

 _Part 1_

There weren't many unused areas in the GUARDIAN base. They only had so much space, and it was almost all utilized, for everything from barracks, to gyms, garages, the cafeteria, science labs, and everything else a spy base might need.

But Jack knew what few empty spaces there were. They offered more privacy than his room in the barracks, where someone might come looking for him.

Today, he chose the one behind the science labs. Well, it was a hall of yet more science labs, but they were rarely ever used. No one would look for him there, and most of the scientists didn't even noticed when he passed the labs that were in use.

Leaning back against the wall of the dimly lit hallways, Jack slid down to the floor. He dialed Rapunzel number from memory. For security purposes, he couldn't program it into his phone. Raising the device to his eye, he prayed desperately that she would answer.

A part of him – a small, but persistent – was convinced that she wouldn't.

It was the lingering effects of the nightmare gas, he knew. The gas itself was gone from his system. But the psychological effects remained.

The third ring cut off.

"Hello?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

His number showed up on her phone as a restricted number – the same as some of the editors she worked for, so she could never be sure who was calling.

"Hey." He had hoped that one word would come out. Just that one word. But his voice broke in relief at the sound of her voice.

Rapunzel didn't miss it.

"Are you alright?"

Jack tilted his head back, looking up at the tiled ceiling. There were florescent lights up and down the hall, but since no one was supposed to be in that hall, they hadn't been turned on. He knew where the switch was, but hadn't bothered. At that moment, he both wanted and hated the darkness.

He wanted to tell her that he was fine. Or, since she would never buy such an obvious lie, to assure her that he would be.

But he wasn't sure that he would be. And he couldn't lie to her.

He didn't want to.

"No," he admitted. "I'm not."

"Oh, Jack." It came out as a breath.

"How are you?" he asked, before she could ask what was wrong. He wasn't ready to talk about it. Right now, he just needed her voice. Preferably on the most mundane subject possible. "What are you doing?"

There was a pause, and he knew she was debating if she should let him change the subject, or turn it back to him.

"Please, Rapunzel." The words came out in a hoarse whisper. "Just talk to me. I need …" _To know you're still there._

But he couldn't finish that sentence.

Another moment passed, and he knew she was processing his words.

"Just talk to me," he whispered again. "Before I lose my mind."

"No pressure," she said, her tone taking on a lightness that they both knew was forced. It was how she talked when they were avoiding the elephant in the room. "Do you remember that collection of fairytales I'm illustrating?"

"Of course."

She was always enthusiastic about her work. And the GUARDIANs paid him enough that she could pick and choose which jobs she took. But he had never seen her want an assignment as badly as she had wanted this one. And she had been working on it almost constantly since she had gotten it a little over a month ago.

"I'm working on the Rapunzel story," she said, sounding sheepish.

The corner of Jack's mouth twitched in a grin. It was half-hearted – more a habit than anything. But it was there.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"No matter how hard I try, it looks like me," she admitted, and he knew she was blushing. She always got self-conscious when the fairytale came up. Though he also knew it was her favorite.

He had known that within twenty-four hours of knowing her. A lot of that first week was a blur – too many nights without sleeping as they drove like crazy all over the Pacific Northwest. She trying to keep up, him not entirely sure why he had brought her along. But they had discovered that talking came easily.

And one conversation stood out vividly. The middle of the night, driving Highway 1, up the California coast and into Oregon. He had finally been too tired to bite back his curiosity about her name.

She must have been as exhausted as he was, if not more so, because she had told him that her mother had chosen the name because 1) they were German, 2) her mother had craved lettuce the whole time she was pregnant.

About how she had loved growing up with the name, even when other kids teased her.

Even how, when she had been four years old, she had asked her father how she was ever going to find her prince if he didn't lock her in a tower.

Jack had laughed so hard he'd had to pull over on the almost nonexistent shoulder of the highway.

"Your publisher doesn't know what you look like," he reminded. "I won't tell if you don't."

Rapunzel giggled.

He wondered if she remembered that night as well as he did. If she was remembering it now.

"So who does the prince look like?" he asked.

"You, of course," she said. As if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "But with your brown hair."

Jack ran a hand through his hair, which was now white. He had never dared to ask if she had preferred his brown hair.

"Are you on assignment?" she asked, when he didn't respond.

"No, I'm at the base," he said. "We got back last night."

He knew she tried to keep hope out of her voice as she asked: "So, are you coming home soon?"

She tried, but he still heard it.

And it hurt.

Stars, he wished he was going home.

Wished he could tell her he was on his way to the garage now.

Or better, that he was at a gas station somewhere along the way.

Instead, he was stuck in the base, which was starting to feel like a prison.

"No," he said, closing his eyes. "We… we ran into Pitch. He hit us hard."

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Is the team?"

"I…" Jack sighed. "We're alive," was the most honest answer he could give. "But they're making us stay for a psych evaluation."

"Oh."

He could clearly picture the scowl she was wearing. As much as his golden girl could scowl. The expression was more cute than intimidating. And he wanted to be there to see it. To pull her onto his lap and kiss her brow so the expression faded. To lean in and inhale her scent. To feel the warmth of her arms.

Missing her was a physical ache, and it was hitting him harder than usual in that moment. A hug from her would do more good than any of the GUARDIAN shrinks could hope to do for him.

"I love you," he said, voice raw even to his own ears.

"I love you, too," she said. "Can't you get North to exempt your from the therapy like last time?"

"He's not here," he said. Since North was the only one (aside from Eret) who knew about Rapunzel's existence, he was the only one would clear him, since he would know that Jack wasn't trying to run. Most people thought he lived on the base, so that didn't realize that he was trying to go _home_.

She huffed a little.

"Oh." He didn't like the turn in her voice. "I know I should probably wait to bring this up, but I talked to my parents called yesterday."

Jack cringed. "We can't get out of seeing them again, can we?"

"Their anniversary is in a couple months," she said. "They want us both to be there."

Jack did not do parties. He did not do crowds. He never had, but his PTSD now ensured that they were absolutely torture. The only reason he got through them on assignments was because he was focused on what he needed to do.

"Email me the date," he sighed. "I'll talk to North about getting the time off."

"We only have to go for the weekend," she said. "And you just have to make an appearance at the party. So my parents know you're there."

"You can't let them think I'm the jerk who stole their daughter and just won't show up for social functions?"

Rapunzel giggled. He hadn't managed to get the intended sarcasm into his tone, but they had had these conversations enough that she knew he was (half) joking.

"No, I will not," she said. "Because you are not a jerk, and I am not going to let my parents think you are."

"They do," he reminded.

"They just don't know," she said, sighing.

"No, they're distracted by the fact that I practically kidnapped their daughter - twice. Eloped the second time. And now makes her live in the middle of nowhere, while leaving you alone ninety percent of the time."

"You're too hard on yourself."

"It's the truth," he reminded her. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Why do you put up with this?"

The line was quiet for a very long moment.

"Pitch got you alone, didn't he?" she asked.

"Him, me, and who knows how much nightmare gas."

Rapunzel exhaled, and he could hear her frustration in that sound. "You don't need a psych evaluation. You need to come home."

"Tell me about it," he muttered.

He was going to say more. But before he could find it, his phone beeped. Pulling it away from his ear to check the screen, he saw the alert telling him it was time for his appointment.

"I have to go," he said. "If I don't know up for my appointment they'll throw a fit."

"I might throw a fit if you don't come home soon."

Jack chuckled. "I'd love to see that."

"Will you call me later?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "You're doing more good than this appointment will."

"I do my best," she sighed. "I'll talk to you later."

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out before he fully realized what he was saying.

She hesitated a moment. "As soon as you come home."

"No, I mean now," he said. "Through the phone."

It wouldn't be the same, he knew that. But if he couldn't be there, then this was the closest he was going to get.

"Okay."

As she kissed the microphone on her phone, Jack did the same with his.

She giggled. "I feel like I'm fourteen."

Jack barely even remembered being fourteen. He just felt broken.

"Thank you. You helped more than you can know."

"If you say so," she sighed. "I hate feeling useless."

"You're not," he promised.

"You know I try not to say this," she said, reluctance saturating her words. "But please come home."

She could demand he come home in a teasing way – or in mock seriousness, as she had throughout this conversation. But this was different. It was an actual request. Something she didn't do often, since they both knew he had no power over when he was allowed to come home.

"As soon as I can."


	5. Broken, Part 2

**If I weren't so busy, I would have loved to take more time with this. But... here ya go.**

 _Broken_

 _Part II_

"Your refusal to talk isn't going to convince me you're fit for duty," Dr. Ombric said, sitting in the arm chair across from Jack.

Jack sighed, leaning back in his own seat.

The office was located in the GUARDIAN's base, though it felt like stepping into a completely different world. Unlike the high tech base, the office was almost void of technology. Ombric's wooden desk was in one corner, set with random knick-knacks, but no computer.

One wall was lined with a wooden bookshelf that half everything from books on psychology and a complete Encyclopedia Britannica, to classic novels, biographies, and even picture books. Jack had gone through them all during his session the day before.

The walls were off white, with a few plants. And it smelled like wood polish. A smell he knew well from home.

It was too formal to be "homey", but it wasn't as sterile as pretty much everywhere else in the base.

Jack didn't like either, but at that moment, he would have chosen any other area of the base. If he couldn't be home, he didn't want anything trying to make him relax. It felt like some kind of cruel joke.

Unfortunately, it wasn't getting him any points with Ombric.

"I told you: I don't need therapy," Jack said. "I need two week's leave for R-and-R."

"Out procedure for agents who encounter Pitch Black—"

Jack waved the man off. He knew the procedure.

"I notice North has always excused you from therapy, however," Ombric added. "This is your first session since you were recruited, almost two years ago."

"And I'm fine."

"Obviously not, young man," Ombric said, his voice disapproving.

Jack sunk back in the armchair. He had an idea what was coming. Apparently there was no avoiding it.

"Between yesterday's session, when you said nothing for the entire hour, and the ten minutes you've been here, you've displayed signs of PTSD, depression, and paranoia."

"You know what line of work I'm in, right?" Jack asked, arching an eyebrow. He was pretty sure those were all permanent fixtures in his psyche. They came with the spy territory. And the "orphaned at a young age" territory.

"According to your teammates, you were alone with Black before they arrived on the scene," Ombric went on, refusing to be distracted. "And you were visibly shaken afterwards."

"If you've read my file, you know this isn't my first run-in with Pitch." Just as he finished the sentence, he realized he had walked right into the trap. (And that wasn't the paranoia talking.)

"You were trained by Pitchiner, correct?"

Jack slumped down, tilting his head back. "Yes."

Too late to back down. Unless he just stopped talking for the next forty-five minutes.

"And that was before the accident, I prewsume."

"Before he went crazy," Jack said, looking up at the white ceiling. "Yes."

Looking back, he was pretty sure Kozmotis had already been going insane by the time Jack started his training. The loss of his wife and daughter had left the man seriously scared emotionally, probably his psyche as well. Little things that hadn't made sense at the time, but all lined up in hindsight. Moments of anger that came out of nowhere, decisions that didn't make sense… It all added up.

"You left not long after the accident, I understand."

He nodded. _I grabbed my girlfriend and ran, more like._

"And what was your opinion of Kozmotis Pitchiner?"

"I thought he was an amazing man," Jack admitted honestly, the words coming out a strange mix of raw and half-hearted. His opinion had since changed. But he couldn't change that he once had looked up to and admired him. "He looked at an orphan boy everyone else wrote off, and he saw that I just needed a chance."

"He used you as a human experiment."

Right. He should have seen that coming.

"I knew what I was agreeing to," Jack said. And he was impressed that the words didn't sound untrue.

That was what he had thought at the time, anyway. Looking back, Pitchiner hadn't really given him a choice. Every time he had asked if Jack was sure about undergoing the procedure, the conversation had included subtle comments that guaranteed Jack couldn't say no.

" _That is what you've been trained for."_

" _We've spent years preparing you for this._

" _I'm counting on you, Jack."_

Looking back… he had never had a choice. Pitchiner had just known exactly what to say so that Jack couldn't say no. Reminding him of the unspoken debt between them. Of everything he had done for Jack.

If he had realized then that Pitch was manipulating him, would he have said no? Would he had run sooner? Said "forget it" and got out while he still had a chance at a normal life?

He looked at one of his hands, which rested on the arm of the chair, frost spreading across the green fabric.

"Your procedure was after his?" Ombric asked.

"Before."

The guinea pig.

Ombric frowned, flipping through the pages of Jack's file, which had been sitting on the table next to his armchair. The folder included most of the pages from Pitchiner's file on him – including those about his procedure. And the note that he was the only one, out of almost twenty people, to survive with his sanity intact. (All mentions of Rapunzel had been removed before North put together the file.)

When Jack had been deemed a success, Pitchiner had been confident enough to undergo the process himself.

Joke's on him.

"I went through the whole gauntlet of tests when Tsar Lunar recruited me," Jack said. "They declared me sane." And he knew the shrinks who assessed him had gone in determined to mind him unfit for duty.

His first few months here, Jack had given the science lab so many blood samples that eventually he had finally put his foot down. If they couldn't find what made him different in all that, then they weren't going to. (North had, thankfully, backed him up.) Of course, they had used his last sample to create a digital map, and were still running tests. (Still no progress.)

Ombric hummed in response. Apparently he wasn't accepting someone else's assessment of Jack's sanity.

"Does your admiration of Kozmotis make you hesitate when facing Black? Do you have difficulty fighting the man who gave you your chance?"

Jack resisted the urge to glare at Ombric. "You obviously haven't read that file very well."

There had been hesitation. Once. The first time he had come face to face with Pitch Black, he had hesitated. And he had paid for it.

He still had the scar on his stomach where Pitch had taken advantage of that hesitation. With a knife that barely missed his right kidney.

For a few tense minutes, Ombric flipped through the file.

Jack looked at the clock.

Twenty more minutes.

"Considering your past with Pitchiner, he must have an intimate understanding of your weaknesses."

"That's his power," Jack reminded. "He knows everyone's fears."

"As your teammates can attest."

His teammates.

If he had snapped out of it a minute sooner – if he had shaken out of his fears long enough to attack Pitch, they wouldn't all be a wreck.

Merida's hands had still trembled when he saw her that morning. He hadn't seen the others since they got back – he had a feeling they were all avoiding each other. But he had run into Merida in the gym.

He had never asked the others what their fears were. It wasn't fair to do so when he wouldn't dream of telling them him. But he knew Merida's, whatever they were, were probably the worst of any of them. She took every encounter with Pitch harder than even Jack.

"Yeah," Jack sighed. "He knows me."

#

Nightmare gas lasted a little less than 24 hours in the system, without outside factors. After that the hallucinations stopped.

The psychological affects though… there was no rule for how long those lasted.

It was why Jack was afraid to sleep. He stayed up late with any excuse he could find: he did a load of laundry, he cleaned his weapons, he reread several of the picture books Rapunzel had illustrated... But exhaustion eventually caught up with him.

The dream – the nightmare – was always different, but always the same.

Thanks to lucid dreaming, he knew it wasn't real the moment he found himself on the shadowed walkway. The same hallways as always.

What little light there was was strange – almost watery. As if it weren't actually light, just a means to see. It had no source, and the angle it came from was always changing. Every crevice and doorway was filled with inky black shadows. The ceiling was obscured with shadows. When he looked over the edge of the walkway, he couldn't see what lay below.

Rapunzel loved the 1960's _Bat-Man_ TV show. The first time he had watched it with her, he had been unnerved that, every time the villain came on the screen, the camera tilted. It created a disorienting affect. The same one he experienced now, because the labyrinth was tilted at the same angle.

Some nights, if the nightmare wasn't too strong, the Bat-Man connection helped him get out. It didn't make sense, and he would probably never tell anyone, because the results were usually ridiculous.

Not tonight.

No sign of Pitch.

Yet.

Some nights he was right there when Jack arrived in the dream. Others, he took a while to show up. But he always did.

Jack took a careful step down the slanted walkway, then another. There was no way out of the labyrinth. But there was no point standing still and waiting. The place didn't have many more surprises to throw at him. Just timing.

He came to the abrupt end of the walkway, where the yellow grey stone gave way to... nothing. Just blackness.

"Are you lost, Jack?"

"Really?" Jack asked, rolling his eyes.

Pitch Black laughed.

His voice, rough in tone, but smooth in cadence, came from every direction, shifting through the shadows.

Jack was lucid enough that that didn't bother him anymore.

What bothered him was what he knew was coming.

Pitch laughed. Dark and cruel. "You've always been lost. When I picked you out of the foster home, you were a lost little boy, shouting at the world because no one would listen."

"And you were already insane," Jack said. "What's your point?"

"Always so mouthy," Pitch said, with a dramatic sigh. The theatrics had gotten worse right along with the man's mental health. "Trying so hard to convince the world you're good enough."

Jack's jaw clenched.

"But we both know you never will be."

The dream world shifted. Jack hadn't taken a step, but he was falling from the edge of the walkway.

Falling... falling... falling...

"Well, at least you keep your promises."

The words were almost off handed.

And Jack was suddenly standing on another walkway.

"How is that pretty wife of yours?"

The words were a reminder that this was just a dream.

Pitch didn't know that Jack and Rapunzel were married. After all this time, he might suspected they were, if the thought crossed his mind. But he never referred to her as Jack's wife. But Jack thought of her as his wife, so his traitorous brain put the words in Pitch's mouth.

"Has your... _protection_ started to chafe yet?" Pitch asked. "Really, I'm surprised she's lasted so long. A vibrant young woman, locked away..." He laughed. "Her name proved prophetic. Oh, maybe you haven't locked her in a tower. But you've still locked her away."

Jack stumbled as the words hit him.

The exact words Pitch had said two days ago. Jack was going to relive it, with his brain making a few changes. Just to make it more personal.

"How much longer do you think she'll stand for it?" Pitch asked.

He was falling again. But he still heard every word Pitch said.

"And what reason does she have to stay? What, exactly, do you offer her?"

Nothing.

He had nothing to offer her.

And that was why the words always got to him.

"She spends most of her nights alone. Without friends. Unable to leave. And all because of you."

He landed in a corner. Back pressed against the wall.

Pitch materialized out of the shadows. His gaunt face leering at Jack.

"And that is why she's safe from me," Pitch said. "Because nothing I can do to her – no threat, no attack – will hurt you more than the inevitable. I can snug out her light. But even that wouldn't hurt you as much as the day she walks out. Of her own free will.

"And when it happens..." Pitch laughed. "Well, we both know what you'll be without her. Anything you were – anything you had before her – you've given it to her. Your battered heart is in her pocket. And you couldn't take it back. She couldn't even give it back. When she walks away, it goes with her. And you'll be nothing."

Pitch looked Jack over appraisingly. "Of course, you were never much to begin with."

With a jolt, Jack was awake. He inhaled sharply.

Frost spread across the sheets, and over his bare chest. In his sleep he had lost control of his powers, and it had frozen his sweat to his skin.

He looked to his left, even though he knew Rapunzel wasn't there.

Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he was halfway through dialing her number before he stopped.

Jack took a deep breath, draping his forearm over his eyes.

It had been a year and a half since Pitch had promised that Rapunzel was "safe" from him. And Jack believed it. Because the man was right.

Jack was selfish enough that having her walk away would be worse than her dying. Nothing was worse than that thought. That she would realize that he wasn't good enough, and that he wasn't worth staying isolated in the safe house.

It was why he couldn't call her. Why just thought of doing so made his entire body shake.

Because if she didn't answer...

Jack put his phone back, rubbing his hands over his face.

He was getting worse. Faster than he had expected.

He had to get home.

This was only going to get worse the longer they kept him at the base.


	6. Broken, Part 3

**I think I've tortured you guys long enough…**

 _Broken Part III_

Waking up was even harder than usual.

Jack in a bed that was empty save for himself – and wasn't large enough for two anyway. And the room didn't smell like flowers. The only greenery was the aloe vera plant. It didn't need much water, so it survived his long absences – and unintentional neglect. Plus, it was pokey enough that no one gave him a hard time for keeping a plant. (Especially since it worked better for burns than anything even the GUARDIAN scientists could cook up in their labs.)

All in all, the first thing he was aware of as he came back to consciousness was that Rapunzel wasn't there. That didn't exactly give him encouragement to wake up.

He waited for consciousness to fully take control of his mind. But his thoughts remained fuzzy.

The headache he had taken Advil for the night before had returned with a vengeance. Only now it was accompanied by an ache that seemed to have settled comfortably in his entire body. Even his bones felt brittle and weak as he rolled over.

Great.

The stress had weakened his immune system.

Whatever he had caught didn't feel overly serious. But he had still caught something, and it was hitting him hard. (According to Rapunzel, he was an absolute baby when he was sick.)

Logically, he knew the gym was the last place he should go at that moment. If he insisted on going anywhere, it should be to the med lab.

But he took another Advil or two, got dressed, and went down to the gym.

Merida and Eret were both there already. Some people haunted the cafeteria, or the garages. No. Those two haunted the gym. It seemed as if they were there every time Jack went in. Or they showed up while he was there.

It was a part of why he forced himself to go down. Because he did not want to hear whatever Merida would have to say if a cold kept him from his workout.

Her greeting did not help anything.

"Yoo look awful."

"You're too kind," Jack muttered.

In contrast, Merida was pretty much back to her usual, obnoxious self. Her hands had stopped shaking after the third day of therapy, and her voice had regained its usual volume – several notches above what preschool teachers call "indoor voices".

Secretly, Jack was relieved. On the jet back to the base after the fight, he had watched Merida tremble, her out-of-focus gaze locked on the floor of the jet as she rubbed her left hand. She hadn't even resisted when Eret pulled her into a hug. As Jack had watched Eret rock her, whispering, he had wondered if Pitch had managed to break her.

When he had been a child, long before he had started down this path, his mother had had a clear glass statue of an angel that sat on the end table next to the couch. He didn't remember the story, only that it had been special. And, of course, he had knocked it over. Probably because he had been running in the house, when he knew he wasn't supposed to.

Amazingly, the glass hadn't shattered.

A jagged hairline crack had appeared, running up most of the statues side. Jack remembered picking it much later, turning the cool glass over and over in his hands. What had fascinated him was the depth of the crack, which went through almost the whole thing. He had stared at the jagged shape of it, which reminded him of lightning.

Looking at Merida, he had remembered that statue for the first time in years. Because she wasn't broken – but Pitch had created a deep, jagged crack.

The night his parents died, when he had been told, he had reached for the nearest breakable object, and thrown it at the wall.

That time, the statue had shattered. Chunks of glass had rained down on the wooden floor, and it had been satisfying, because it looked the way he felt inside.

The crack never could had been fixed. But Merida seemed to be, if not fully healed, then well on her way.

If Jack were willing to actually talk to Ombric…

No. He was not going to tell Ombric about Rapunzel.

Pitch was right. Jack had given Rapunzel every part of himself. Every piece of his bruised heart, and his battered soul, he had placed in her hands. And she had healed what she could, chased away the darkest shadows, and poured her love on what little was left. She kept him in the backpocket of her favorite cut off jeans.

" _Of course, you were never much to begin with."_

Everything came back to her. Because she _was_ his everything.

If Ombric got him to open up, with any hope of actually getting anywhere, Jack would have to explain that she was the reason his heart kept beating, and his lungs kept pumping oxygen.

Which was exactly why he refused to bring her up.

Going over to one of the punching bags, Jack braced himself to go through at least a few drills. The practical part of his mind did some quick calculations, and announced that he did not have the energy for more than a few punches. But he refused to turn around and leave while Merida was there.

He would never hear the end of it.

He threw a few experimental punches at the black bag, warming up.

 _Why do you hate yourself so much?_ His body asked.

" _Always so mouthy. Trying so hard to convince the world you're good enough."_ Pitch's words echoed in his mind. _"But we both know you never will be."_

Jaw clenched, Jack threw a right hook that sent the bag swinging.

" _You never will be."_

Left hook.

He tried to hit hard enough to drive the words out of his head.

Right. Left. A roundhouse kick with his right leg.

His body swayed as fatigue washed over him.

Kozmotis Pitchiner had never exactly overflowed with praise. It wasn't his style. He had been far quicker to point out where Jack needed to improve. But he had always let Jack now when he had done well. Had assured him he had potential, and that all his hard work wasn't a waste.

Pitchiner was gone. Jack had accepted that at the same moment the knife had sunk into his stomach. Anything Jack had admired about the man, or any part of Pitchiner that had cared about Jack, was dead.

But hearing the words, in Pitchiner's voice, still hurt.

It was exactly what Ombric wanted him to talk about. But, of course, it lead back to Rapunzel. The only reason he had survived that first fight with Black was because he had promised to come back to her.

Of course, she hadn't expected that he would come back only so they could both run away.

Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if he hadn't gone back to her that time. Any time before that – but especially that one. If he had looked at his life, realized what a walking catastrophe he was, and realized that her life would be better without him. She would still have had a chance at a normal life.

But, no. He had been too weak to stay away. So he had gone back, and when she had insisted on coming with him, he had accepted it.

"Hey." Eret came up behind the punching bag, bracing it with his hands. He spoke quietly, so no one else in the gym – especially Merida – could hear. "You're not going to do her any good if you kill yourself.

"Like I do her any good now," Jack muttered, throwing another punch.

Eret didn't even seem to feel the blod.

"Don't," he said, still quiet. "I don't know what you're thinking, but you're driving yourself insane."

"Isn't that why they've got me in therapy?"

"You got all of us out alive." Jack knew that, to Eret, "all of us" wasn't as important as "Merida."

He wasn't sure what Eret saw in Merida. But he knew exactly what it was like to take a single person and make them his top priority.

It sucked.

No matter how much you loved that person. No matter how much you would gladly, and willingly, give up and do for that person… it still wasn't to know that you weren't your own anymore.

Honestly, though, he was pretty sure he had it easier. Rapunzel wasn't anywhere near as reckless as Merida. And while he wished he could be home to take care of her (wasn't that his job as her husband?), at least he didn't have to worry about her on the field.

Yeah. He didn't know how Eret did it.

Merida was trying not to be obvious about the fact she was trying to eavesdrop. But she was not subtle. Not even in her wildest dreams.

Hence why Eret was whispering.

"I may not know your girl, but I can bet she wants you to come home."

" _You know I try not to say this. But please come home."_

Jack nodded.

"We both knew the way to keep a woman happy is to make sure she gets what she wants."

Jack smirked, the expression weak, but there. Rapunzel might not be half as demanding as Merida, but it was still true.

Eret clapped him on the shoulder. "Get some rest. Getting sick won't get you home any faster."

Technically, Jack outranked Eret… but he accepted the order with a nod.

As soon as he reached his room, he collapsed back into bed. He didn't even have time to be afraid of sleep, for fear he would end up back in the labyrinth. Exhaustion hit him mercifully quick, and hard.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up to the sound of his phone going off – six hours later.

He rubbed his face as he rolled over.

More sleep would do him more good than another therapy session… But his refusal to talk was already pushing it. If he didn't show up, someone who out ranked him would have something to say.

Another hour in Ombric's office was better than a lecture of any length.

#

"You don't look well."

"I don't feel well," Jack admitted, slumping in the armchair. For the first time in almost three years, he felt cold. He wore his leather jacket over a long sleeved black shirt, but it wasn't doing much good. Since he didn't have a thermometer, and had no intention of going to the med lab, he couldn't check his temperature. But his fever was going up, he knew that much.

Ombric looked at him for several long moments, considering. "Perhaps—" 

"No." Jack shook his head. The word came out weak, and the movement made him dizzy.

"I'm beginning to think you don't want to be cleared for active duty."

In the back of his mind, that actually didn't seem like too bad an idea…

"Why else would you refuse to talk, when the stress is obviously eating you alive?"

Jack had bowed his head, closing his eyes to try and still the world that spun around him. He took several deep, steadying breath.

Part of him wanted to answer that question. To find some way to explain, without actually explaining.

"Do you have a secret?" Jack asked, not lifting his head. "Not a dangerous one, just something you don't want anyone else to know, because it's none of their business?"

Tense silence stretched for several heartbeats, but Jack was too tired to care. He didn't think Ombric would answer, since it was a personal question. (He would laugh at the irony, if he wasn't working so hard on making sure every part of his body did what it was supposed to do.)

"Yes."

Jack nodded. Carefully, to ensure it didn't send the world spinning like a top.

"Me, too," he said. "The thing is… Everything I am revolves around my secret. It's the sun at the center of my universe." He chuckled, but stopped short when that didn't go over with his body very well. "Sh—It is the sun. I need it. It's the only reason I'm alive, but it's also the most dangerous thing in my life."

"That doesn't sound like a harmless secret."

If Jack said "it's my wife", or even just "it's a woman", Ombric would understand. As it was, he couldn't imagine what the doctor might think he was talking about.

As it was, since he didn't want to say either of those things, he chose to ignore Ombric's comment.

"Everything aspect of me comes back to that one thing," he went on. "If I started to tell you about what happened between Pitch and me, or why I make half the decisions I do, I would have to tell you why my heart beats. And no offense, but I don't want to do that."

"Then how do you expect to recover from this?" Ombric asked. "You're falling apart at the seams."

"Because right now my heart is somewhere else. I need to get back to it more than I need to tell you how I feel." That was dangerously close to the truth. All this talk about hearts, it wouldn't be hard for Ombric to put the pieces together.

Before Ombric could say anything else (thought Jack knew something had to be coming), there was a knock on the door.

Jack lifted his head as the doctor went over to answer the door.

"Ah, Ombric."

His head had started to drift back down, but it jerked up at the sound of North's voice. It brought on another wave of dizziness.

"Is Jack here?" North asked.

"Come in," Ombric said, holding the door open. "Perhaps you can help me get through to him."

The big Russian came in, and Jack saw the concern in the man's eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," North said, coming to sit in a third armchair.

"He refuses to talk," Ombric said. "Or, rather, he refuses to tell me anything important. This is our fifth session, and he was just explaining to me why he _can't_ tell me anything."

Jack met North's blue eyes.

#

He was falling.

Again.

He didn't need to see his surroundings to know he was once more in the labyrinth.

He landed on a walkway, and sighed in relief to have something solid beneath him. But before he could refill his lungs, he was falling again. His traitorous mind was showing no mercy tonight.

"You really are pathetic, Jackson." Pitch's voice rang out, echoing off the stone walls. "Your heart, your hope… you've given it all to her. Haven't you ever heard about not putting all your eggs in one basket?"

"I only have one heart," Jack muttered. He was on one of the walkways, but he stepped carefully, expecting it to fail at any moment.

"Most people aren't stupid enough to give themselves so completely," Pitch said. "Even the most love sick idiot knows better than that. Not you, apparently."

"Yeah, well, maybe the divorce rate in America would be lower if people did," Jack said.

It actually got a dark chuckle out of Pitch. He and Pitchiner had always had the same dark sense of humor. Jack's was a little lighter. But it was part of why they had gotten along so well.

"Well, you may have a point," Pitch said. "You should have been smarter, though. Most people aren't so fragile."

It wasn't an insult. It was his mind acknowledging what he already knew: he was cracked. Rapunzel kept him sane, kept him together… but she couldn't fix the cracks. It was why it was so dangerous for him to love her. Because even sharing the weight with her, it might break both of them.

"I had such high hopes for you, too."

Pitch talking again. Not his brain processing through Pitch's mouth.

Now that Jack had stopped expecting the fall, the walkway vanished.

He always forgot that rule.

"Such a disappointment."

"Wanna say that to my face?"

Pitch laughed.

"Why? I don't have to do anything to you. I just have to sit back, and watch."

Another walkway. And Pitch stood in front of him.

"And I'm a patient man, Jack."

He felt a feint touch on his temple. In his unconscious state, it was strange – there, but not there.

"Jack."

His name didn't shatter the dream – it dissolved it. Like sunlight dissolving the darkness.

Rapunzel's fingers combed through his hair, a soothing, repetitive motion, bringing him back to consciousness.

His eyes opened as she kissed his forehead.

Night had fallen outside, and the light of their bedroom was off. The purple organza canopy around the bed was drawn, but the translucent fabric let in the moonlight that poured through the windows.

The smell of flowers washed over him. The smell changed a little all the time, as she brought in different varieties. But the floral scent was still one he associated with safety.

"It's okay," Rapunzel whispered. "I'm right here."

His heart clenched in his chest at the sound of her voice.

"What time is it?" he asked, rolling over to face her.

"I don't know," she said, still stroking his hair as she met his eyes in the darkness. "About three, probably."

Jack nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath.

As soon as he had gotten him, Rapunzel had sent him upstairs to rest. He hadn't complained, and he had once more passed out as soon as he had changed and climbed under the light blue sheets.

"Your fever is going down," she said, pressing her hand to his forehead.

"Don't tell North," he muttered.

"He said we have three weeks," she said. "I'm not giving you back before then.

Jack chuckled dryly, and didn't resist when she pulling him into her arms. Normally, he was the one holding her. But right now, he was too tired and broken for his male pride to chafe at being held. Honestly, it felt good.

"Just rest," she whispered, still stroking his hair. "Anything else can wait."

Before long, he was asleep again.

This time, thankfully, without dreams. 


	7. Kiss Me Goodbye

**One Sad Jackunzel Kiss, coming up. The first time Jack had to leave for an assignment after they got married. This is why Jack usually leaves before she wakes up. It hurts too much.**

 _Kiss Me Goodbye_

They had known this was coming.

Every time the doctors had told them cheerfully that the stab wound in Jack's side was healing without a problem. More rapidly than expected. Apparently the procedure had increased his healing abilities. She had been grateful he was recovering. But there had been that shadow on the horizon. Knowing that, once he was cleared for active service, he would be back on the field.

Though it had been weeks since he was given a clean bill of health – she suspected Tsar Lunar had given them time.

They'd had two months together. While Jack healed, and the settled into the safe house. (Though Jack's injury had put a damper on the first few weeks of their honeymoon.) And it was time she was grateful for.

She had known this was coming.

But that didn't make it easier.

Jack finished packing his last few things, then the silence was bropen by the whir of the zipper as he closed it.

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Jack asked.

Rapunzel looked up to meet his concerned gaze. Blue, now. Not warm brown. Maybe someday soon she would be used to the change, and it wouldn't take her by surprise.

She forced herself to smile, smoothing the black leather jacket draped over her forearm. Then looked back at her husband.

"I'll be fine," she said. Because that was what he needed to hear. And it was true.

"You're sure?"

It was a conversation they'd had multiple times in the past few days. Since they had realized that their reprieve was fast coming to a close. And she had to face the fact she had married a special operative.

"I'm sure." Again, she forced a smile, trying to put a note of teasing in her voice. "Without you distracting me, I can finally start working on the garden. And sending my portfolio out to editors."

The corner of Jack's mouth twitched in something close to a grin. But only a twitch.

"Lunar promised it's safe," she said, her voice growing serious. "I- I've always trusted him."

"That's not what I asked," he said quietly, still standing by his backpack. He was dressed for work: black cargo pants, and a fitted, black tshirt that teased her by grazing over the contours of muscles she was now very familiar with.

The night before, she had finger-painted swirling purple lines across his chest and stomach. For no particular reason other than that her paints had been within reach. She wondered how long they would last. Probably not long. If they weren't washed off with sweat when he worked out, they would come off in the shower.

Coming around the bed, she reached out and took his left hand. Raising it so she could see the white gold bracelet he wore. She twisted it so the small amethyst was at the top.

"I'm trying to be strong," she said. Not able to meet his eyes. Wishing she wasn't saying this. But needing to be honest. "I'm trying not to say that I want you to stay. Because we both know you can't. And I can't change that I'm going to worry about you."

She stroked her thumb over the back of his pale hand. Wanting to remember the contrast of her tan skin against his.

"It's team orientation," Jack said. "They're not going to send us on a high stakes assignment right out the gate."

It was an attempt to reassure her. But they both knew the high risk assignments would come. It was only a matter of time.

But Rapunzel forced herself to take a deep breath. Her mother had always taught her that there was no point worrying about what wasn't here yet.

"So I'm just going to say that I'll miss you," she said, finally looking up into those blue, blue eyes. Unforgiving, unrelenting blue. When she wasn't surprised by them, her breath caught with how beautiful the shade was.

"Com'ere," Jack whispered. He took the jacket from her, setting it on the bed.

His calloused fingers brushed over her cheek, a barely there touch as he leaned in. The moment his forehead touched hers, she felt tears well up in her eyes. But she closed them, fighting back. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. Jack needed her to be strong – not for her to cry and cling to him when he needed to go. He needed to know that she would be alright on her own, that she could keep moving while he was gone.

When his lips touched hers, though, she couldn't stop the sob that welled up inside her.

Jack started to pull back. Probably to try and comfort her.

There was nothing he could say. Words wouldn't help right now. So she wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him close as she pressed her lips to his.

He seemed to understand. His arms circled her back. Holding her almost too tight as their lips moved in fervent tandem.

In that moment, that was what she needed. To feel him, solid and alive. To remember the taste and feel of him. Somehow, knowing he was alive now, reassured her that he would come back safely.

Too soon, he pulled back.

"I have to go," he whispered, kissing her cheek. "I don't want to. I'd rather stay with you."

Rapunzel nodded. She reached up to wipe away her tears, but he beat her to it. There was something wonderful about the gentle way his rough thumb wiped away her tears. He was a fighter, through and through. But with her, he put the fighter aside. Touching her carefully. Tenderly.

"I know," she said. "I can't keep you here when people need a hero."

Jack snorted. "Thanks, Punz. But I'm not a hero."

The nickname sent a shiver of happiness up her spine.

"You're mine," she said, squeezing his hand.

He grinned faintly. "Thanks."

Turning away, he picked up the jacket and shrugged into it. And like that, Jackson Overland was hidden behind the mask of Jack Frost.

She followed him downstairs, to the front door. They both hesitated. Stalling in their last few moments together.

Jack stepped close again. Forehead touching hers.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

They kissed again, but didn't linger.

"I'll be back."


	8. In Laws

**Torture Jack? Torture Eret at the same time? How was I supposed to pass that up? This is set before Broken. I wanted to show Jack interacting with Thomas and Primrose before I write that anniversary party Rapunzel mentioned in Broken Part I…**

 _In Laws_

"When you and Merida get married, you should change your name to DunBroch."

Eret looked over at him, brow raised. "'When'? Don't you mean 'if'? We're not even dating."

Jack rolled his eyes. Merida and Eret could hide behind that "just friends" excuse all they wanted, but the fact they cared about each other as more than friends was so obvious it was almost painful to watch.

"And just because you're happily married doesn't mean the rest of us have to be."

"That's exactly why I know you _want_ to marry her," Jack said.

The line ahead of them moved, and they both stepped forward. Apparently everyone had decided they needed coffee at the same time, because the first Starbucks they had found was in the middle of a rush. But they had already placed their orders, so it was too soon to leave and find one that wasn't so busy. Even if they did have the time to do so. (Which they didn't.)

"So being married makes you an expert in how the rest of us feel?"

"Sure," Jack said, grinning. "I notice you don't deny it."

It was Eret's turn to roll his eyes.

Jack just grinned.

Sometimes he still wished he hadn't let Rapunzel's existence slip to Eret. But sometimes, it was nice having a friend he could talk to honestly. His marriage to Rapunzel had a huge affect on his thought process, and even just who he was. As long as the rest of the team didn't know that, they could never understand them. He liked the others well enough, but it was kind of hard to establish a friendship when he kept such an important part of himself hidden.

"I thought you were old fashioned," Eret said.

"I am," Jack said. "But Eret Eretson? Com'on. What were your parents thinking?"

Eret didn't answer… but the way his eyes shifted, he obviously saw the point.

"Why are you even thinking about this?"

"I think about weird things when I'm sleep deprived."

The door opened before Eret could respond. Jack's head jerked around as a woman with bright pink hair came in.

He exhaled in relief.

"Would you stop that? You've been jumpy since we got off the plane."

"Sorry," Jack muttered.

"What's wrong?"

"I've been in California too many times." It was kind of true. Though not quite for the reasons Eret would think. "This source of yours better be on the level."

He had been just about to head home, after three and a half weeks away from Rapunzel. But while he had been throwing things in his backpack, Eret had come in and asked him to back him up withle he met with a source.

Jack had scowled, but agreed. Mostly because he knew it was what Rapunzel would want him to do. As had been confirmed when her response to his text had been encouraging.

Since this wasn't technically an assignment, they had taken a commercial, overnight flight. Neither had gotten much sleep, hence why they were stopping at Starbucks before the arranged meeting.

And lack of sleep tended to make Jack paranoid.

Eret started to respond, but a barista called out their orders.

Jack grabbed his mint chocolate chip Frappuchino (extra whipped cream), while Eret took his iced coffee, and they headed back outside. To the horrific heat that was Southern California in late July. Not Jack's favorite environment by any stretch of the imagination.

Their rental car was in the closest parking spot they had been able to find… which was almost two hundred feet from the Starbucks door. All the spaces directly at the walkway had been taken, so they had to cross the asphalt (dodging a Mercedes that screeched around the corner).

Jack was seriously thinking about taking off his leather jacket – which he almost never did when he wasn't at home, or in the GUARDIAN gym. Right now, he didn't care how cool it looked, or that it was his mental armor. His dark blue tshirt clung to his back and chest as the heat alone caused him to sweat. He really hoped they wouldn't end up running. He would probably get heatstroke.

His powers wanted to flare, to bring his body temperature back down to his usual sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit. Keeping them in check was starting to cause a dull stress headache at the base of his skull.

"Jackson?"

He froze with his fingers curled around the handle of the passenger door on the rented Lexus.

No. No, no, no. They weren't even in the right part of LA.! This should not be happening.

But he knew that voice. It wasn't the same as Rapunzel's. But it was similar enough that he could never fail to recognize it.

Eret looked at him over the roof og the car, a silent question of whether or not he should be on guard.

With a sigh, and a shake of his head, Jack turned towards the voice. Just as Primrose Corona reached him. Followed by her husband. Of course.

"Hey," he greeted, trying not to let his frustration show.

Primrose he could handle. Whatever her opinion of him, she was too polite to let it show. Thomas, though… how well he and Thomas could pretend to get along basically depended on how close Rapunzel was to them. If she was in the same room, they could be civil (most of the time). If she was in the same building, or at least the city, they were okay. But right now, Rapunzel was pretty much on the other side of the country.

Jack had no problem with his father-in-law. He just knew that the man had serious issues with him. For which he didn't blame Thomas one bit.

He really didn't have the energy for this.

Why couldn't they have ignored him? Why did they have to be so polite?

"What are you doing in California?" Primrose asked.

"Work," he said.

"I just spoke with Rapunzel last night – she didn't mention you would be in the area."

"I just came up last night," he said. "I'm just in town for the day."

"Jack." Eret came around the car. To some it might look casual, but Jack recognized that this was his friend coming to his aid in a fight. A fight Eret might not understand, but that he still recognized as a fight.

"Oh. Eret, these are my wife's parents: Thomas and Primrose Corona."

He said a silent prayer of gratitude that Eret was the one who knew the whole situation, so this didn't become as awkward as it could have been.

"Hi." Eret reached forward to shake Thomas's hand, every bit the proper professional of their cover. "I'm Eret DubBroch—Eretson!" He actually looked horrified at his slip. And the sudden change startled the Coronas. "Eret Eretson"

Jack quirked an eyebrow, starting to smirk as he watched Eret's face start to turn bright red.

"Did you just—"

"Shut up," Eret muttered. "Just shut it."

The Coronas watched the exchange with obvious confusion.

"Sorry," Jack grinned. "We were talking about his girlfriend's name a minute ago."

"She's not my girlfriend." It came out strangled.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I hate you."

"You work for Lunanoff Corporation then, Eret?" Thomas asked.

Eret nodded. "Jack and I work together in PR."

And if anyone called Lunanoff Corporation to check that cover story, the receptionist would confirm it. Tsar Lunar operated the GUARDIANS under the cover of his business, and every agent had a cover.

"We actually have an appointment to get to," Eret said. "If you'll excuse us."

"Of course." If Thomas' expression was any indication, he was wishing his wife hadn't called out to Jack at all.

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "Have a good day."

"You too, Jackson," Primrose said.

He was thoroughly relieved when they turned away, and he finally pulled open the car door. As soon as he was inside, drink in the cup holder, he buried his face in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts.

The driver's door opened, and he heard Eret slide it.

"Well, that was a disaster."

Jack grunted something in response.

"They really don't like you."

Jack shook his head.

"What did you do?"

Jack exhaled. "I eloped with their daughter, and made her live in the woods on the other side of the country while I travel all over the world for work."

"I can see why they're annoyed."

"So can I," Jack admitted, running his hands through his hair. "I'm not sure they'd like the truth any better, though."

He took a long drink of his Frappuchino. It cooled his mouth, the sweet taste coating his tongue. But didn't do much for his general state.

"Hang on." With an exhale that drained his lungs, he let go of his powers. He couldn't hold them back anymore.

The sweat on his back and chest froze instantly, frost spreading over the door, and up the window.

"Sorry," he muttered, when Eret shivered at the sudden change in temperature.

"Who needs air conditioning?"

"Don't we have an appointment?" Jack said, looking over with something close to a glare. "Let's get this over with."


	9. Things You Said At The Kitchen Table

**I wrote this a while back for a prompt on tumblr, but forgot to post it here!**

Things You Said At The Kitchen Table

Rapunzel had started to doze off, but she woke up to the sound of the front door opening. She sat up in bed, listening intently as she bit her lower lip. Jack wasn't supposed to be home for a few more days.

The footsteps downstairs sounded like his, though. And she heard his backpack hit the floor before he went deeper into the house, towards the kitchen.

Getting out of bed, she grabbed her robe from the chair by the door, shrugging into it as she stepped imto the hallway. She heard the clatter of dishes in the strainer. The fridge opening. The gas stove clicking as he turned on one of the burners.

By the time she reached the doorway of the kitchen, Jack was just sinking down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. His shoulders were hunched as he slumped down.

"Jack?"

His head jerked up. "Rapunzel? Did I wake you up?"

"It's okay," she assured. "What are you doing home?"

He looked away, running a hand through his hair as he braced his elbows on the table. He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, on the verge of being crushed by it.

"Oh, Jack," she breathed. Wanting to wrap her arms around him. But knowing he probablu couldn't handle touch at that moment.

"Our assignment went wrong. And a nine year old girl is dead because I missed a motion sensor." He ran both hands through his hair. Probably playing the whole thing over and over in his head, trying to find where it had gone wrong. What he could have diffetent.

"Are… are you suspended?" She asked. Hating that a part of her wouldn't mind if he was, sincr it meant he would be home with her.

He shook his head. "North said there was nothing we could have done. They gave us a few extra days off. To recover, I guess."

Rapunzel bit her lip, wishing there was something she could do. But experience had taught her the hard way that there was nothing she could do to help him at moments like this.

She went over to the stove. One of the mugs sat on the counter, while the milk in the pot was just starting to boil. She looked around for the hot chocolate, but didn't see any sign of it. He was so tired, he must have forgotten. Her heart clenched with the thought of how much strain he must be under for that to happen.

At least it gave her something to do with her hands, which felt so useless. She mixed the cocoa powder into the milk, then poured it into the mug. Returning to the table, she set it in front of him.

"Thanks."

"Of course."

She watched him wrap his hands around the mug, frost spreading from where his fingers touched. The steam curling off the liquid disippated as he cooled it with his powers.

He took a sip, then opened his mouth to say something… but took another sip.

"What's wrong?"

Fingers through his hair again. Blue eyes fixed on the table, as if he could find answers in the brushstrokes left over from when she had painted it.

"I wish I didn't have to burden you with this." He sighed. "I wish I could protect you from… from my life."

"This is how marriage works, Jack," she said. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers against the back of his hand. An invitation. "You're not burdening me."

He let go of the mug with the hand she had touched. His fingers wrapped around hers. Cool to her touch, though she didn't mind.

"Thanks, Rapunzel."


	10. Get Better Soon

" **What kind of friend would I be if I didn't challenge you?" Eva Maverx said when she requested "a kiss on the chest". I will say again: A NICE ONE! …but, because you challenge me, you're a** _ **good**_ **friend. So.**

 **But oh my gosh, I love writing Jack. The conversational style I built in ATS comes so naturally, and it's so much fun to get back to his voice! Of course, Jack in pain seems to be very easy for me…**

Getting shot was not on Jack's list of favorite things.

Actually, it was pretty high on his list of _least_ favorite things. Right up there with things like Pitch Black, Nightmare Gas, and getting stabbed. And interacting with his father-in-law. And mandatory therapy sessions with Ombric. And Brussels sprouts. Even Rapunzel's cooking could not make him like Brussels sprouts. And temperatures exceeding 80 degrees.

Yeah. The list of things he didn't like was a long one.

Jack groaned as he braced his hands on the kitchen counter, trying to breathe without expanding his lungs. Any movement in his chest would mean adjudicating the hole that went clear through his chest and shoulder.

In good news, it had missed anything vital.

In bad news… he had still been shot. And it hurt. And it was making it really hard to maintain any kind of positive attitude.

And did he mention that it _hurt_?

His fist clenched on the granite countertop. Knuckles white as he rode out the wave of pain in his left shoulder.

"Jack?"

"In the kitchen," he said, through gritted teeth. He could hear her footsteps coming down the stairs, and towards the kitchen.

The pain was not subsiding.

"Jack? What happened? Are you all right?"

"My memory's hazy, but you once made me promise to always be honest with you, right?" he asked, as she came up beside him.

"Yes?"

"I got shot," he admitted. (Since his vow of honesty had been brought up.)

"Are you–"

"I'll be okay," he assured, seeing the worry start in her green eyes. "I'm on my feet."

"You shouldn't be," she said. Reaching up, she wiped her thumb over his temple. Drawing his attention to the fact he was sweating.

"I'm fine," he said. "It just hurts."

"Did they give you something for the pain?"

"Sure, but I couldn't take it and drive home," he reminded.

Rapunzel sighed, hand cupping the side of his face. "Oh, Jack. What am I going to do with you?"

"I have a list," he said, trying to smirk. But it was a little hard when his shoulder was still throbbing. "But it'll have to wait until breathing doesn't hurt."

She shook her head a little, though he saw the corner of her mouth twitch in a small smile. After another moment, her hand slid down the side of his neck, until she got to the top button of his shirt.

"What are you–"

"At least let me see it," she said, her expression fixing in determination as she unbuttoned his shirt.

Jack knew it would only bother her to see the actual wound. But that it would bother her more if he didn't let her.

"What happened?" she asked, as she undid the last few buttons.

"Some punk got lucky."

"That's what my father says about the fact you married me," Rapunzel said, sliding his shirt off his shoulders. It left his torso bare, save for the bandage wrapped around his chest and over his left shoulder.

He shivered as her hand caressed his shoulder. Gentle, and careful. She paused over a few on the visible bruises. Checking their severity, without applying a painful amount of pressure. Until she found the clips on the bandage.

Jack managed to hold completely still as she unwound the bandage from around his chest. Until the stitched up bullet wound under his left collar bone was visible. He watched her bite her lower lip, pushing a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear in agitation.

"Rapunzel…"

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her expression was once more determined as she re-wrapped the bandage. "It looks like it missed anything vital."

"It did. I'm yours for the next six weeks, though."

That got a gentle smile as she looked up at him through her lashes, before returning her gaze to the bandage. "Well, you'll have to heal up quickly so we can get to that list of yours."

He shivered. "Why do you torture me like this?"

The smirk she gave him was, most likely, something she had learned from him.

But it faded as she clipped the bandage back in place. "You're sure you'll be all right?"

"Probably. They pumped me full of some fast healing potion before I left."

"I still don't think you should be on your feet," she said. "Go upstairs and get some rest."

"I was planning to," he said. "But I wanted to get a drink first." He nodded to the carton or orange juice on the counter, and the glass he had gotten down from the cupboard. The movement that had caused the stabbing pain.

"Please don't rub it in," he muttered, seeing her smirk as she put the pieces together.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," she said, even as she went about pouring a glass of the juice for him.

"Shut up."

But her giggle was enough to make him grin as he accepted the glass of juice. Which he downed in two gulps.

"Thanks."

"That's what I'm here for," she said. She reached around him for the shirt she had set on the counted. "Now get some rest."

"No complaints," he said. "I can't remember the last time I had a full night's sleep." He leaned down to kiss her. It wasn't the normal kiss he gave her when coming home, but just being around her satisfied the constant ache he felt while he was gone.

As he pulled back, he took as deep a breath as he could manage. Breathing in the smell of sunshine and flowers that was her. "I'll go rest."

"Wait." Leaning forward, Rapunzel pressed a kiss over the bandage that covered his wound. "Get better soon."


End file.
